When Dead Dear began I wanted to make sure that I never held back. I wanted everyone to know about my beliefs and opinions. I’ve been writing fancy articles since then but I’ve strayed away from my origins (telling incredibly personal stories). Well, as some of you know I wanted to commit suicide tonight, which is whatever Thursdays are really boring. I was going to keep everything private, but then I remembered what I always wanted the site to do.
I’ve done nothing but empathize and support everyone around me and you know what, everyone around me doesn’t exist anymore. You know that you have friends to turn to. The people that respond to your Facebook posts or that you can call up. If you want to know what it’s like to be alone you watch me. You look at everything that I’ve become: a person who was nothing. A person who is kind to everyone: sitting exactly where he was 7 years ago realizing that if he hung himself from the window seal his mom and sister would be the only one’s who would truly care. Although they’d probably be better off.
If I’m still here tomorrow, I’ll support you in whatever you chose to do . I don’t hate anyone it’s just not in me and I won’t put myself in that position anymore, but I’ll tell you what, there’s probably a 50/50 chance. Right now that’s about where I’m at in my life. If I decide to end it I’ll leave you a note with all the passwords. Just don’t write about it, have Christine do it if you want to post something.
Did you now know that it takes 13 coils to make a proper hangman’s noose. 50/50 shot.
There’s a fourth of a bottle of whiskey left and I’m supposed to go to Newark with those people I don’t know in like an hour
Let’s see what happens first.
Okay, so let me let you in on a few numbers, just so we can take some of the guessing out. According to some peer reviewed studies, people who threaten to commit suicide are 30 times more likely to actually do it, but that’s intentionally alarming so let’s ignore that one. Okay, we also have people with bipolar disorder at 15 times more likely but again that’s only .4% of us so that’s a 1 in 200 shot. So it doesn’t seem that you’re very lucky but I’m going to see if we can increase those odds.
You can live today but maybe I’m not in that kind of mood. I’m only telling you this so you know that driving around with your phone off and making people wonder is rude. If you’re going to do something at least keep people posted. OD’ing that’s just anticlimactic we’re storytellers let Chekov’s gun go off with a bang. On that note in the eulogy I don’t want any quotes of songs or authors predating the 40’s it’s tacky
You know this thing all started as a cry for help, a reaction of sorts to depressing situations and whatnot. Think my mind has broken. 50% may have been a bit high but I’m not really sure what’s going on with existence anymore. Oh when you pick up the passwords just take the computer too, it’s better than yours and everyone else in the house is kind of set on Mac products.
My head fucking still hurts there’s still a lot of pain. It’s weird how much I hate stomach and head pain but love skin pain. Like I’ll cry and cry about a stomach ache and then cut myself after. This is getting tedious typing all this is interfering. I have a set plan of dialogue sir and it’s just going to ruin things if you don’t respond promptly
Eh fuck it.
Just to let you know though you weren’t completely a bad guy you just seem to affect the mentally divergent rather poorly. I just need a damn audience who gives a shit about partners.. That’s just sex sir, we’re talking about existence and if that’s the topic of discussion. Do you really still think this is about you? That I would make a decision like this only one variable. This is about spending life alone sir, about everyone you love leaving you or treating you like you shouldn’t exist. It’s more about art than anything else, so many mediums put together to make one last great piece for the Moma or whatever such place. It’s bigger than I can control anymore chemicals reacting to other chemicals both biological and man-made
I just needed a place to write it all down.
Well, and I don’t want you to judge me for this because it’s a rather rare occurrence but I was trying to get the nerve up to finally kill myself, and I used messaging him as a way to talk my way up to it, describing the whole thought process leading up to it. I got to the edge of the roof and just stared for a while but my legs were just too fucking week or I was too scared, but I basically wrote my entire suicide note to him not accusing him or anything just like letting him know. But now I’m back inside the window and it’s just all words again like another bloody post on a forgettable blog.
It’s odd I thought that I’d feel fear or remorse or like joy something. Instead it was just like pure logic, pure inner dialogue and decision. No emotion, no depression just either this will occur or this won’t let’s take three minutes to decide. It worked like a calculator and just computed the decision unconsciously. Like I wasn’t in control or anything like it was a problem coming to completion on some sort of programing device